Endevors
by D. Masters
Summary: He goes around the world helping others. His reson is nothing more than his love for his family, and his willingness to use his gift to help them.
1. Walkabout

There was a man that was one of the most renowned psychics in his field; he was a spirit hunter. His job was to go from haunting to haunting, prove or deny its authenticity, and then, if real, drain the spirit of its wrath, and send it to where it is supposed to be. His travels were varied, ranging from town to town within a state he's visiting, to international travels. The assignment that he was returning from had been one of his most harrowing.

He found himself deep in the forests of Japan, investigating the reports of a spirit that was attacking travelers that were venturing from village to village. It was believed to be the residue of a ceremony to honor the dead: a ceremony that had gone horribly wrong. As the festivities were opening, several villagers from the west inquired about the particular dead that they were appeasing. His brothers from the east looked at him solemnly, and told him that it was supposedly the body of a Yeti that had been slain by the errant arrow of one of his comrades, but there had been something wrong with the creature. It was overly large, almost 36 Hands tall, with large talons, longer fur, huge, yellow eyes that gleamed in the sun and what appeared to be the remains of horns.

The man from the west looked at the men in horror, and asked them if what they said was true. Told that it was, he fled the place screaming at the top of his lungs. The word he was calling meant nothing to the easterners, but his comrades from the west followed his, also screaming in terror. The ceremony went wrong soon after. A strange call was heard by the remaining villagers, and many left, fearing that what they had taken for terror, was really a call to an attack. Those that remained to fight, were never heard from again.

However, it would have been better if they had never been seen again, also. Their remains were found the next day, by a brave young man who wanted to see why none of the other men had returned. There was a terror filled scream several hours later, and he was seen running into the village later on. When he was found under the bed of his beloved by the wives of several of the missing, he was found uttering a single word over and over, in a piteous voice: "_Akuma"_.

The women of the village went to the area the ceremony was to be held, and were met by carnage.

There was blood staining the ground a deep black, and made much of the area a bog. There was also blood spatters on almost every tree in the range of 200 feet. The men's bodies were torn to shreds, and it appeared to have been done by a huge sword. The cuts were clean, but deep, and savage. At first, the villagers thought that it may have been done by a crazed villager, but then one of the others found tracks...They lead away from the area, where trees were seen to have gashes in them at a height that no man could reach...36 hands up. The tracks them selves were an anomaly. They were human-ish in their structure, but the toes were seemingly ended in ragged talons, and as they went, they seemed to fade, not because they went so far, but because the culprit seemed to get _lighter as it walked away_.

The women sent the last strong man to the city in their only vehicle to get the authorities. When he got there, he was almost laughed out of the police station. To placate the man, they sent an officer back with him to see what the trouble really was. Not an hour after he should've arrived, there was a call in to the stations radio, "Chief, you need to get out here...Bring as many men as we can spare, and bring some really big guns..." The radio attendant was about to radio the officer to get a grip, and calm down, but everyone head the raw edge of his voice: it was all that he could do not to scream in fear.

The Chief, along with nearly 200 men, most armed with either shotguns, or grenade launchers(several men, both) drove to the scene as fast as possible. Upon their arrival, they found the first officer in a local garment. When asked why his simple, albeit embarrassing, answer was that first he threw up, then after he looked about some more, he "washed his trousers". When the rest of the force went to the scene-proper, their reactions varied from outright terror, to cold indifference. Those that felt nothing had a good reason though: they were so overloaded, that their emotional responses were shut down, to preserve their minds. The Chief knew little what was going on, so he went to interview several of the inhabitants of the west village upon hearing the accounts of those in the east village; mostly, his goal was to see what they had been screaming as they fled.

Most of them refused to say what the word meant, for fear of bringing a curse upon their village too. The headman of the village told the officer that he would write it down, but only under the condition that the officer didn't open the note and read its contents until he was out of the village. He agreed, if only to appease the man and get the information that he needed. As he was leaving the village, he saw numerous people give him a warding sign, as if he was an evil spirit. He then realized that he held in his hand, what could be the key to danger...

When he was out of the village and on his way back to the crime scene, he opened the paper to reveal one word: _WENDIGO_. At first, the man didn't understand what the word meant, until he realized that it was in English, not Japanese. When he made the connection, he had to stop and balance himself against a tree, because he knew what it meant. As a boy, he had been an exchange student to Canada. While there, he learned a great deal of mythology, and knew that there was no creature more fearsome than the Wendigo. It was a monestrous demon created by one of great evil who is physically transformed to reflect the hunger in his heart.

The original human is one that ate the flesh of another man to survive, instead of facing his death with bravery. When this creature didn't kill, his sightings were said to bring horrible pestilence upon the one who saw it. If he sank his claws into the soil, it would be tainted with his evil aura and never allow another thing to live there. If the ground was sacred, however, his touch was worse. If the grounds were used for burial, the later entombed bodies were said to rise up, hungering for the flesh of the living, and if one was caught and allowed to speak, it would speak of only the evils you had done in your life; if you were pure of heart, he would corrupt your soul, and turn you against those you loved, if only to laugh at your soul when he was returned to the Underworld.. No matter what the Sacred reasons that surrounded the grounds, it would turn evil, and reverse the role is had before it's corruption.

If the physical body of a Wendigo was killed(usually only under the absence of a moon), it's essence would remain, and nightly kill anyone who dwelled upon the lands. There were only a few ways to remove the evil where it's essence rooted; most were so unpleasant that the areas were, more often than not, abandoned, and marked off from travel.

Uncontrollable shakes continued to wrack the body of the Chief, as all the lore flooded into his mind. The thing that truly terrified the man, was that the descriptions that were always given to the demons was the same one that one of the villagers had given him as the best that they were holding the ceremony for, because it had been killed by an errant arrow. He knew what it could mean for the villagers if they were right, especially if it had dug its claws into the soil as it had died.

He got back to the village as night fall was nearing, and told his men, under no uncertain terms, that if they weren't back into the city before night fall, all of them would be busted. At first, no one moved, because to hear such a comment coming from their Chief was unheard of. When he said it again, adding the phrase,"Listen here, damn it..."they moved. On the road, he got on the open channel within the vehicles, and told them everything he knew. After he spilled it all, one of his men said only a name: Drake Masters.

There was silence on the radio, as the entire force thought about the varied stories that they had head about the men. One remembered reading an article in which he had helped prove that Dragons had once walked on, and flown over(and breathed fire upon) the earth; another man thought of a tabloid he'd read that said his works were only able to be done because he was the Devil incarnate; another had heard just the opposite. Even the Chief had heard stories about the man, but he was the only one that had ever _met_ the truth behind the legends.

All in all, the Chief wouldn't have believed he was who he was had he not seen the tattoos on his wrists: On the left was the Kanji _ten_-meaning heaven. On the right was the Kanji-_chi_ meaning earth. Later on after a few drinks, Drake finished convincing the Chief of his identity when he showed him the kanji on his chest:_ Hito_- meaning personality. Drake said that it was a reference to part of the _Bushido_- the Samurai code of ethics, which the Chief had verified; over all, though, Drake was only about 6' tall, and weighed in at 225 lbs. He looked like your typical American skater kid, except for his muscular frame, and the _scars_.

He had a set of two on either side of his face, the set on the left set went from the orbital bone and back into his side burns; the set on the right also started at the orbital bone but followed the curve of his face to end at his jaw line. The odd thing about them, was the fact that both sets were about two centimeters apart. When the Chief asked him about the scars, Drake rubbed the right ones thoughtfully.

"Well, Chief, it was about two years ago...I was researching a case about a slasher that had been found dead in an alley behind a local cemetery. I wasn't usually called in for murder cases, so I knew that there had to be something more to it. However, when I got to the scene, it looked like the place had been cleaned up, and everyone had scrammed already. I then began to notice movement...it was then that I realized that I was having a postcognitive vision; I was seeing what had lead to the slashers death.

"As everything commenced, I saw that one of the graves was pulsing with a powerful aura. It wasn't evil per-say, but it was definitely after the slasher. I watched the scene closely, and found out that the spirit was one of his former victims. She possessed the body of a large man in the area, and used his hand to kill the slasher. However, it seemed that the slasher had other ideas..."

Drake stopped and took a long pull on his beer. Gathering his thoughts again, he continued his story.

"When I emerged from the vision, I had been standing at the scene telling everything as it happened. The man that had killed the slasher was later released due to my findings. I dare say that it was one of my more interesting cases."

The Chief looked at Drake. "I will admit that it is an amazing story, but it didn't explain the scars."

Drake looked at the man, and then began to blush like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "You're right, that was the point, huh?" Laughing, he re-continued his story. "I was told by witnesses later on, that the slasher had been seen in the area causing mayhem. Knowing that he was dead, I decided to say in the area to observe.

"After a good few hours of distanced watching, I ventured closer to see if there was really anything amiss, or if it was locals that had gotten too much to drink. When I got to the area that he'd been killed, I instantly knew that there was something horribly wrong. There was an energy in the air that was very dangerous, trying to lash out at anyone that could feel it. The moment that I came into its range, it was after me.

"With no real way to protect myself, since I hadn't been prepared for an attack, I would have to do with the limited spiritual techniques that I had at the time. I took the blows to the left side of my face as I tripped over a fallen trash can. Using a barrier technique, I got my footing and began trying to find out what I was up against. As I focused, I could see the energy of the slasher. It seemed that the priest that gave him the last rights forgot to leave a rosary by the man's head as he did it, to help calm his soul, and send it to the other side.

"I knew how to send his soul over, but I didn't have the supplies I needed. Seeing that the cemetery was sitting right next to the local church, I hoped that there was at least an alter boy still on the grounds. Luck was with me, and a light came on after only yelling twice. Cutting through the cemetery, he was at the fence beside me within a minute. I told him what I needed and he ran to fetch them, because he could see that I was up against something, he just refused to believe what.

"When he got back with everything, I told him to begin reading the prayers for the Last Rights, sprinkling Holy Water after every four words. This was the spiritual help that I needed to help send him over. I took the second rosary from his pocket, and held it in one hand as I thrust it into the slashers spirit. As, the gates opened, he took two more final swipes with his razor, giving me the scars here on the right."

Drake finished his beer, and stood to leave. The Chief asked him how, if he needed him, was he to contact him. Drake looked at him, grinned ear to ear, and said, "Don't call me, I'll call you..."

That was three years ago...almost to the day, the Chief realized. He laughed to himself, as he thought, "_Well, Drake, if there was any other time that I need you, it would be now..._" Then with the thought having barely left his head, the Chief screeched at his cell ringing. "Bullshit..." He muttered. When he answered he got the recording, "Will you accept a collect call from..." The Chief was in shock when the voice said, "I'll be there in three days." He said that he'd accept the charges, but there was no one on the other end. He was left to his thoughts, for the rest of the ride to the Building.


	2. Arrival

Elsewhere, Drake was laughing at the guaranteed confusion of the Chief. He knew about the fact that the beast had gotten into Japan, the only question was how. He knew the magick that spirits were composed of in Japan, and the magick that composed the Wendigo were completely incompatible. If a Wendigo spirit were introduced into Japan, it would be corrupted by the native magick's and turned into something different. No matter how many times he looked at the situation, it came up totally impossible. The only way that anything could've created a Wendigo in Japan, was if the magick itself had been corrupted; if that had happened, then the whole ecosystem of Japan could fall apart, and the island could be lifeless in the span of ten years.

Drake decided to call up an old friend of his that had experience with the traversing of one magick from its environment to another, alien, environment. When he finally answered, he told Drake that he knew why he was calling, and the books he needed would be waiting at his hotel room. Drake began to ask him what was up, but he hung up before he had a chance. Laughing, he knew that he would be in for an interesting read.

When he got to his apartment he prepared the things that he needed, he found that there were several packages waiting for him. One was from his brother in the Marines, the other three were from his mom, back in Dublin. For smaller packages, Drake was surprised at how heavy they were, but knowing his mother, she knew where he was heading and had packed a "care package". If she did, it meant that she knew what he was hunting, too...Drake grimaced, thinking of he loading the packages with all that stuff, with her bad shoulder...Sighing, Drake began to open the packages, expecting little and being nicely surprised.

He had been expecting winter clothes and non-perishable foods, but there was a major difference in all of it; most of it was from _home_. His mother usually bought stuff off the internet that would help him blend with the crowds where he was heading, but all the clothes were _Irish_ goods. Wool jackets, hand knitted sweaters, and more home made deer jerky than he'd seen since his last trip home. The note on top fell to his feet as he was looking at stuff, and he picked it up to read it.

"Dear Son,

I know that you're headed to that awful Japan, so I packed some things that you might need while you're out in the forests. The paper that is under the next sweater you get will give you the package that is waiting for you in customs. Don't even THINK of calling me and complaining, the magick will help you out. The books will also make things a bit easier.

Be careful and remember, even if you are surrounded in shadow, that just makes the light of your power that much brighter.

Love,

Mom"

Drake shook his head, finding it funny that everyone but_ him_ knew where he was staying when his plane landed. He figured that the Chief had arranged things, and everyone else knew that the packages would be sent to where his name was registered. He figured that, or they all KNEW, and just didn't realize it, which felt like the real reason to him.

The only thing in any of the packages that didn't make any sense to him, was a camera. He shrugged it off, though, because the alarm on his watch started to go off, telling him that he only had thirty minutes to get his ass to the airport. "_Shit...Time to book_!" he thought. Throwing his suitcases in his Jeep, along with the one that he put all the packages in, he got on his way to a new adventure.

At the airport, he found himself under the impression that it was still under construction, but he knew that it was impossible; he flew out of there all the time. His vision flashed, and he saw the airport as he should, and then, like a double exposure he could see the under construction version. Knowing that there was something he was supposed to find, he began paying close attention to the vision, blocking out the built terminal completely. He wandered back to where his plane was waiting, both because he needed to be there, and because that is where the pull of the vision was strongest.

When he got to his terminal, he could see a slight glow coming from under the tile by where the fire exit would've been. He shook the vision long enough to ask an employee if anyone had lost something important during the construction of the terminal.

"I don't really know, sir, but if you ask Jane, she might know. She was one of the original stewardess' when this building was built."

Drake thanked the woman, and approached Jane. "Miss? I need to ask you something."

The older woman looked at him with a smile. "Yes, what can I tell you?"

"Well, I saw that someone lost something important to them during the construction of this building. Would you happen to know who, and what it was?"

The old woman looked at Drake with confusion for a moment, and then realization hit her features.

"Oh, my! I lost my wedding ring during that time! But...how did you know?"

Drake looked at her and smiled. "Let's just say that it is a talent I've always had. Who would I talk to so I could have part of the floor pulled up?"

The woman looked at Drake in astonishment. "You mean, you know where it is! I'll go get the manager!" The woman headed for a phone just as a man about her age stopped her. After some rushed whispering, Drake was sent two men, a wedge, a hammer, a bucket of water, and a warning. He was told if the ring wasn't there, he would be held responsible for destruction of property, and be reported to the police.

With a grin on his face, Drake began to pull up a two foot section of the floor. After about three minutes, he reached into the crawlspace he had opened up. With a grimace, and the sound of squelching mud, he brought up his hand. Dropping the muddy contents into the bucket, he began to vigorously wash _something_ off. With a flourish, he brought his closed hand out of the bucket, and motioned for Jane's hand. With a wolfish grin, he dropped her long lost ring into her hand.

Tears immediately began to flow from both Jane's eyes, and the eyes of the manager that she brought with her.

Drake made the connection instantly; they were married, and that was the ring he gave her. He then saw that she wore no band on her finger, and Drake was compelled to ask.

Smiling the woman knelt in front of Drake, and kissed him, to emotional to talk. Her husband, told him the story. He had been one of the men on the construction team that built the building, and Jane had visited him often on the site. One day, after months of saving, Randy was able to get a ring, so he could properly propose. Which he was able to do the next day, much to Jane's shock, and the encouraging hoots and hollers of his fellow workers.

However, Randy had partially overestimated the rings size, and it was slightly loose on Jane's finger. She loved it though, and wasn't going to say anything to Randy for fear of hurting his feelings. It was a mistake on Jane's part, though, because she didn't realize just how loose it was. Later on in the week she went to go see Randy, and walking over to where he was, she felt the ring slip. She began to look for it, but it fell in a patch of thin mud, and sank. She refused to get a new ring, because Randy had saved for months to get that one, and it was the only one she wanted. Even for just the wedding, she refused to have a temporary ring for the ceremony.

The couple thanked Drake endlessly, and pulled some strings and had him bumped to first class, as thanks. Knowing the expense of the gift he had been given, Drake told the couple to call him if they ever needed any help of any kind. Giving them one of his cards, he smiled, thanked them again, and went to catch his plane.

After he left, the couple looked at his card. It was bare of graphics, but it didn't need any, his name was world renowned, it read simply, "Drake Masters, Psychic, Spirit Hunter" and his numbers. The old man turned sharply to look at the terminal he had disappeared into, ans said his name to feel if it was right. A feeling of doubtless confidence hit him; he knew that a world famous man, had just done a simple job, for which the old man could never really show his full thanks for. He thought, however, that his gratitude was enough for the young man; the upgrade was luck, or a lucky break. The man looked at his wife, smiled, and the two went to the lounge for coffee.

Upon entering the plane, Drake knew that he was out of his element. He was used to riding coach, since he had been doing it for so long on is travels. He wasn't used to the extra leg room, or the better meal; on his lay over at Soekarno- Hatta International Airport in Indonesia he was re-downgrading, it was much too luxurious for his tastes. He supposed though, that maybe he shouldn't, because if the old man somehow found out, he would be crushed by Drake rescinding his offer at the next stop. He decided that maybe the attention might do him a little good, because first class did have first class Scotch, after all...

At his layover, Drake went to the gifts shop so he could send his mother something small. Her tastes were still for those tacky ceramic figurines, so he commenced his search for one or two. Just as they began calling his flight, he found some in one of the shops. They seemed...out of place, though. The little man looked as though he had seen a horrid tragedy, and was then frozen with the look if pure fear still on his face; the woman, however, sent shivers down Drakes spine. She reminded him of one of the three crones of Roman Mythology; one of the fates. That wasn't what got him though, it was the...the _look_ she had about her. Her black eyes seemed to pierce into him, and her smile was hate filled, but not stupid. Her hair, though carefully molded, seemed ragged, and horribly ratty. Her whole appearance seemed...dark, hateful, _wrong_. Drake suddenly had the same feeling that he did on a trip to Haiti; like there was a deep wellspring of darkness nearby. He all but ran from the store.

Back on the plane, Drake suddenly felt tired, as if he had walked for miles. As he asked a steward for a pillow, he also inquired about the little gift shop across from the café on the end. Looking at him oddly, the steward went and grabbed him a pillow. On his return, he told Drake exactly what he was hoping not to hear: The little shop hadn't been in operation since the owner had been executed for Voodoo. Drake saw that this trip was going to be the one that put him in either a booby hatch, or a grave. He hoped for neither, but didn't set his sights at coming out unscathed, either. Drake decided that he should get the sleep that he could so he would be ready to go after he landed at Haneda International at Tokyo. He knew that customs would take an hour or so, and then he'd have to wait for his luggage, and then find his contact. Though the first two wouldn't be that bad, he knew that the third could be awful. Most of the time, he would meet his client directly, but the way this all was sounding, he was going to meet the Chief of Tokyo Police. He didn't think that they would find him a security risk, but it was possible that out of those killed, one or more of them could've easily been researchers. With a mental shrug, Drake turned over on his side, and went to sleep.

"_Falling...why do I feel like I'm falling? Is this a dream, or a vision?_" Drake wondered this to himself, but could feel the words, like they were a pliable substance in the air. He only had this sensation in his dreams, so he thought that he would wake himself up. He couldn't. "_Great...the dream and the vision are tied together. I wonder who wants to talk to me._" He got his answer almost before he could finish the thought. Fading in out of the darkness was a gigantic shape; like a life-size monster, the Wendigo was standing not twenty feet in front of Drake.

"So then...It seems that we meet, hunter..."

Drake knew the moment the beast began speaking that it was in another language. His mind heard it all in English, simply because that was what the beast wanted. The meant that the creature had something of importance to say to him. What it was, Drake couldn't guess, but knew that he would be finding out soon enough.

"I come to you now, in peace, because I know that this is the only chance. I may be a being made of 'evil', but know this, hunter, even a creature such as I can be controlled."

Drake woke with a start, drenched in sweat, with a stewardess gently rubbing his shoulder to rouse him. He looked at her and smiled, she looked confused for a moment, but then she knew, not _how_ she knew, but she knew nonetheless that the man under her hand knew why she was there. She then returned his smile, and walked away, obviously shaken.

Drake sat up, fixed his chair, and prepared for the landing. The way he felt at that exact moment, was as if he had just had a conversation with an old friend, not a demon that walked the plains of the land, and those of the mind. The idea of it being_ controlled_, however, didn't strike Drake as unplausible. In fact, it felt like the only thing that was making sense enough to say that, _that_ was why the beast hadn't been corrupted by the native magick of Japan. The power that would be needed to do it, though, was beyond Drakes grasp, because the power needed to control even a lesser demon was beyond the grasp of any living man. Well, he amended his thoughts, beyond any living man _he_ knew of, anyway.

As his plane landed, Drake saw that he was expected. There were banners all along the strip that announced welcome to him, both in English and Japanese. He laughed, because this also meant that there were throngs of media groups waiting to get an official statement regarding his business in Japan. With another laugh, he got the mental image of hundreds of amateur Paranormalists that would want either his secrets, or his autograph.

He supposed that this was what it was like to be a celebrity, but knew that this much attention could lead to big problems. There would be so much confined chakra to make his senses reel, and if there was enough people, it could render him unconscious. From there, he couldn't be responsible if his mind lashed out to defend him. He decided right then that he wasn't going to be leaving by way of the terminal; he would use one of the crew exits that lead right to the parking lot, and would call the Chief from his waiting rental. He thought, though, that such a tactic may be expected, so it might be better yet to just hide his general appearance and go right to the streets, and grab a cab. Digging in his luggage, Drake found his hat and his cloak. The hat was more or less a beanie, but it looked like Link's hat from OoT, and the cloak was much like those seen im paintings of Druids, with the deep hood, and long flowing cape. It was more of a joke between him and his brother, since the day Drake had played Merlin in the Renaissance Fair when he was 18. The cloak just kinda stick as an appearance thing, so he kept it for just such an occasion. He put on the hat, and then the cloak, leaving the hood down, and looked outside to see how lighted the area was. The major lights had been shut down, since the airport proper had shut down for the night, but the walkways, halls and the such were still bright. Taking his bag to the bathroom, he used a but of stage makeup to cover his scars temporarily, so he would seem less himself. When the time came, he spoke with the pilot, who realized what Drake was asking, and took him along with him. So far, Drake's plan was working.


	3. Origins

At the rear exit of the airport, Drake was delighted to see a cab waiting for him. When he enquired about it, the pilot said that he had one of the crew radio ahead to have one waiting. Drake bowed, and then shook the man's hand, covertly slipping Y1,000 into his pocket. Getting in the cab, the driver turned to him and asked Drake where he was going. Without thinking, Drake told the man to wait, so he could make a phone call. Dialing quickly, Drake got hold of the chief, and told him where he was. The chief said for Drake to go to HQ and wait for him there, so that they could discuss the case. Drake confirmed, and told the driver where he was headed. Five minutes later, Drake was standing in front of the Tokyo police station, waiting for the chief.

While waiting, Drake decided to call the customs agent, and have the packages waiting for him delivered to his hotel room. When the agent asked for his claim number, and Drake gave it to him. The agent laughed when he told Drake that he had already been ordered by the Chief of Police to do that already, and gave Drake the official address of where he was staying; it was one of the only Hilton Hotels in all of Japan. With a grimace, Drake thanked the man, and hung up.

"_How on Earth am I supposed to afford this? I hope that someone else is picking up this tab..._"

Not long after his phone call, the chief pulled up in one of the cruisers. The thing about it that Drake didn't understand, was why he was in a suit and not his uniform. Then, with a shock, Drake realized that the Chief he had talked to those years ago, had become _The Chief_! He was the new head of Tokyo police that Drake had read about in the paper on the plane He was glad to see that the years had been kind to the Chief, because even their brief meeting had given Drake a lot of respect for the man. He hoped that the Chief would recognize him under all his hiding, and impulsively wiped off the makeup to be sure.

The man stopped and bowed to Drake. "Drake, we meet again. It is a pleasure to see you, I just wish that it were under better circumstances. Please, let us go to my office."

Drake returned his bow, and said, "The pleasure is mine. I am glad to see that you have progressed through the ranks of the force. I'm expecting to hear how it happened."

With a grin, the man told Drake that he would hear of that, if he wished."Although I would prefer to get the case out of the air first. It is a most troubling subject."

"Of course. This place is yours, so we will conduct this in a manner that is fitting for you."

The Chief laughed and showed Drake into the building, and then to his office, where they could share stories and discuss what needed to be said. On their way, though there was a few things that the Chief wanted to speak with Drake about, including his call earlier in the week. It wasn't the call that he was interested in, though, as much as it was the _timing_ of said call. He brought this fact up to Drake, who began to laugh outright.

"Aye, you'll have to forgive me, Chief. I try to keep tabs on my contacts so that I'll have a heads up if there is trouble. I just happened to look in on you at the exact right time." Drake had been chuckling through out his explanation, but he stopped suddenly, as if humor itself had just been murdered. He began to look about the elevator car as if it had grown in size, and that is when the Chief even registered that something was very, _very _wrong. He began to glance about the car, in hopes of seeing what Drake could not, but neither could he spot the exact center of the problem. He could feel it emanating from the very walls of the car, as if there was a great fan that was blowing fetid air directly into the car. Drake began to flush with anger, and the Chief could feel an even more palpable force begin emanating from the large man beside him.

"Drake, what is it? Can you tell me what's wrong so that I might help?" he asked, hoping to calm the Irishman down. This sudden bout of anger that was welling out of Drake reminded the Chief of one of the things that Drake had told him on the night they met: "If I ever seem to begin getting angered at a single place; if you can feel the very air itself; start to sing. One thing that I am _not_ proud of is my temper; if it gets the better of me, I tend to lash out, physically as well as mentally. My mother refused to allow me to even come home if I was in a pet. She'd make me go walking on the moor so that I would destroy nothing but a few trees; in the house, I was likely to bring the very roof down on our heads."

The Chief had no idea what to sing, so he began with one of his favorite Karaoke songs: When Irish Eyes are Smiling. He had only gotten past the third line when Drake suddenly stopped and looked at him. He was still very red, but his anger quickly abated into laughter. The Chief, embarrassed, asked Drake what in the name of Buddha what was so funny. Drake looked at him, tears streaming down his face, and said, "I've heard many a man sing that song, but never had I heard it sung so well from anyone that wasn't kegged!" The Chief blushed even deeper, knowing that Drake meant his comment as a compliment, and his blush made Drake laugh all the more. His laughter seemed to diminish the force that was flowing around the car, and soon the Chief was also laughing; not from humor, but for the simple release it brought.

When the elevator chimed their stop, Drake's laughter slowly ebbed into awe, as he found that the entire upper Suite was the Chiefs office. Taking in his surroundings, Drake wandered the room; the Chief, however, took his customary seat behind his desk. Looking at the name plate Drake was finally given a name to address his companion by, instead of calling him "Chief" as did his subordinates.

"Chief Tsu Aramai...a handsome name. Would I be too informal if I called you, Aramai-sama?"

"Drake...you honor me! Not only did you say my name properly, you knew the correct suffix in which to use! I am impressed!"

Drake laughed, and waved the compliment away. "Now, now...you needn't be _so_ amazed. Did I not spend a week with you here on my last vacation? I called you 'Chief' because it was the only name I heard you addressed by; I did some studying before I came. 'When in someone else's home, it is best not to complain of their cleaning.' Is that not how the saying goes?"

"_Hai_, but you have the saying out of context. I think you mean, 'When in Rome...'"

To the amusement of Aramai-sama, Drake blushed, and nodded. Without addressing his correction, he asked Aramai-sama to fill him in on the last of the details that he was lacking. Drake knew about the fact that it was a Wendigo, there was an attack, and that it had its corporeal form destroyed. What he was looking for, though, was how many it killed, where they were killed, and if there had been an y suspicious packages, people or the such brought into the country before the attacks. In the back of his head, he thought that he had most, if not all, of the answers that he was looking for; he just wanted confirmations and further explanations on most.

Before starting, Aramai-sama asked Drake if he would like a cigar. Drake declined that, but when he was offered sake, he accepted with gusto.

"Well, Drake-san--"

"Just Drake, if you please. No offence, but the honorary suffixes sound like shit on my name."

"Of course! It is one thing when giving a man shit, but it is another if it injures their name. Before I continue, I have to ask: Is your brogue thick than the last time we met?"

Drake laughed, "Aye, that it is. I spent most of six months back home on vacation. I guess that I got so used to Gaelic, that my English got a bit rusty. Now, if you don't mind _me_ asking, has your English gotten better?"

Now it was Aramai-sama's turn to laugh, "Yes, actually, it has. My son is in California studying business management, law, and police enforcement tactics. He chose your LA because he thought that they would offer him the best courses. Most of his letters come in English, so I had to be a quick study so that I could respond."

Both men shared a good laugh at that, and sat with their thought for a moment before carrying on with the topic at hand. Drake took another glass of sake, enjoying the warmth is spread through his body. "_Better than Guinness any day..._" he thought, and returned his attention to the topics at hand.

As the night turned to morning, both men found themselves still in Aramai-sama's office talking. Both had talked family, friends, and other endeavors, and as the sun rose, Drake became solemn. "You know, I think you told me just about everything there is for a one man to tell another. I think that it is high time that I tell someone _my _ story. I'm sure that I told you some the last time we met," Aramai nodded. "Well then, here is my _whole _story. Just stop me if I lapse into Gaelic, I tend to do that when I'm drunk." Aramai said that he would, but he never needed to; Drake spoke directly to his mind.

"I was born and raised on the moors of Ireland. My father was in England looking for work, leaving my mother to raise the _clann_. I was raised during the last years of one of the many potato famines to creep through our area. My _athair_ would send us home money every week so that we could have food, but our letters never seemed to reach him, so we could tell him that what he was sending wasn't enough. My big brother, Russ; Cyruss his name is, but we mostly called him Russ, took a job at a neighboring farm at 13 to help back the money that our father was sending, and it really saved us. As a kid, things were pretty basic, sleep, wake, shower, eat, shit, sleep. Day in day out, that was my routine. Until me thirteenth birthday, that is..." Drake took a pause, to take a drink, and started again after he drained his glass. "That was the day you could say shit really hit the fan for me..." As Drake was talking, his mind began to wander back to those times with a vivid clarity that he could feel. He knew that this was a memory induced vision, and hoped that he didn't scare Aramai-sama too badly if he could see it too.

Drake had been wandering the moors as he did so often at those times. His bloody head would get to throbbing so badly it felt like it was going to pop like a grape under a boot. He had a method for getting rid of his headaches, but today it just want working. He thought that his headaches were caused by the constant hounding of the poltergeist in their house, but he thought that some of it was stress, too. With his big brother at work on the neighbors farm, it was just him, his _máthair_ and the new baby that had come after his _athair_ visited last time. His headache was blocking most of his thoughts, but there was one that was constantly dogging him that week: On the coming Saturday was his brothers 23 birthday, and he had no way to gut Russ a thing. "_Cac_!" he swore to himself. "Is there no way for me to get anything? I have to be able to get a job _somewhere_!" This thought train was his mantra of the week. After his brothers birthday, it would return to, "Fucking potatoes. Damn headaches. SHIT!" as was almost a common for his thoughts.

He wondered if any of the local farms needed someone to slop out the barns. It was a job that he hated, but if it would make him a few dollars for a gift for Russ, he thought that he could live with the fact. If there was something better he would take it, but he thought that shit work would be the only thing he would get. If he wouldn't have had to sell his bike, he could've rode to town to see if there were any of the shops that needed a cleaner, someone to unload the trucks, or something in that vein. But, he did sell his bike, and he couldn't ride into town, so it was off to one of the local farms to look for work. He thought that he should try to get on at the farm with Russ, but he was afraid that he would cause Russ to loose money if he did. "Off to MacLeod's stead...Damn but I hate that drunken _bod_."

Drake's dislike for Joseph MacLeod stemmed from a fight that happened between him and Russ over the matter of $80. Joseph blamed Russ for four of his pigs getting killed by a wolf that had gotten into the barn through an open door. After he beat the bejesus out of Russ and took the money, it was found later that Joseph himself left the door open after a drinking run that ended with him in barn after his wife had kicked his "drunken useless ass" out for the night. While he never paid Russ back, when he showed up at MacLeod's shop he never allowed Russ to pay for anything related to the farm for the next several months. According to MacLeod, it was due to an overpay on the Masters farm tab; Drake and Russ knew it was him trying to ease his guilty heart.

Drake almost missed the path to MacLeod's home, being in a brown study as he was. With a shake of his head, mostly wondering if it was really such a good idea, he walked up to the front door. After knocking, he took a step away from the door, in case it swung out, like the one that brained him as a babe. As the door opened, "In..." Drake thought with an inner smile, he saw that it was one of MacLeod's daughters, Maura, that answered, instead of the Missus. He found that he had lapsed into thought over the fact when she asked him if he was, "going to stand there gaping or come in."

With a laugh, Drake walked into the foyer, as it were, and asked about Mr. MacLeod's whereabouts. "I could really give a high squat about where that addled fool is." was the response he got. Gape mouthed and lacking reply, the young woman continued. "My _cBpraid athair _ has been out on the moor for more than a day. We can hear the truck now and again as he comes to the barn for supplies, but he never sets foot in the house. Mother went to look for him this afternoon, but she hasn't come back yet...and I'm scared."

The sudden drop in her mood startled Drake, and his instant reaction was to try to comfort her. He shifted his weight and began to put an arm around her shoulders, when she crumbled into his chest, crying. Startled, but not stupid, he put his arms around her and began to talk to her; much like his _máthair _did when his little sister was hurt. His words worked, though, and she calmed under his hands; soon her tears lessened to sniffling, which subsided to nothing. She pulled back a bit to look at him, and his head began to fill with heat, like when his migraines came. He apologized, and went outside to clear out his head. She followed him, felling that she should because he had helped her. Sitting next to him on the rail, she could feel a moderate heat radiating from his body, as if he was deep in fever. She knew he wasn't though, because the heat hadn't been there as he held her.

For Drake, her sitting so close mad the heat in his head worse, a phenomena that he had no explanation for. Suddenly, an unbidden thought shot into his mind. "It isn't me..._it's her_! I'm feeling her sudden want for me!" As soon as he gripped this thought, all of the heat left his head and traveled...south. They turned to each other at the same instant, and Drake then found himself lost in the heat of he kiss. His mind filled with thoughts, some of them from the stories his brother had told him about some of the women in town. The heat began to climb, when she suddenly took his hand and tugged him to the left of the house and he followed, curious. She led him, after a check of the path ahead, to the barn, and then to the hay-loft. He paused as she climbed, thinking, "_Is this me_? _This beast of heat and lust_?" He told the thoughts that he was, when her had appeared over the edge of the loft, her slip in hand. When he got to the top, he was struck by her scent(as his mind insisted it was, and would forever after), and then was lost in the heat of their renewed kiss...

Drake awoke sometime later to the yelling of Joseph, and could initially not remember where he was. Then he saw Maura sleeping with her head on his chest, and both of their clothes in a pile beside them. The thought of what had transpired brought the heat back into his body, but he willed it away, knowing that Joseph was prob'ly looking for his daughter.

"Damn it, girl! You was supposed to have dinner ready when I got here! If yer hidin from me you had best show yourself afore I get more angry than I am!"

Drake nudged Maura awake, and began to carefully move for his clothes in the same moment, when he heard Joseph's yelled, "Got ya!', from below. Knowing that there was little chance for escape, Drake decided to take what he had coming, but kept running the thought, "Don't find us!" over and over. Joseph got to the top and looked directly at both Drake and Maura, _and then climbed back down_! Hearing the man leave, Drake let his breath loose. "I don't know how he missed us, Maura, but he did." She grinned at him, much as she had earlier, and kissed Drake reaching down and helping the heat find where it was meant to be. They then enjoyed each other again, purely in celebration that they would live another day.


	4. Night's End

((A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. Work has been keeping me on my toes lately. Enjoy!--D. Masters))

They again fell asleep, having thoroughly worn themselves out, and slept to the coming of the sun. As the first of the new light hit his face, Drake couldn't remember where he was, only that he was surrounded by hay, and that he was lightly restrained by...something...around his waist. Looking around, he saw Maura, as nude as he realized he was, sleeping at his side. With a light blush, he awoke the young woman, and began to hunt for his pants.

"Why are you in a hurry, lad? Do you wish to be out of my company so quickly?"

In truth, Drake thought that was most of the reason, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "Nay, I was gone all night without telling my mother; She'll be worried thin." Maura looked satisfied with his answer, and began to look for her clothes, too. When they both had what they were looking for, they crept out of the loft, and outside. The fog was thick that morning, which would prove to be a blessing since Drake was walking with his hand about Maura's waist, and hers about Drake's. The fact that She was only in a slip, and He in his pants wouldn't help the fact along with their elders. At her porch, they kissed farewell, and Drake began his walk home, still barefoot.

Not three miles from his house, he was greeted by his dog, Roland. The beast was little more than a mutt, but he was set apart from most dogs by his eyes: they were fierce, but empty blue. Bombardiers eyes. That was the feature that had given him his name, though. Drake had gotten his hands on a copy of The Gunslinger, by a man named King. Drake loved the book, but was disheartened when he learned that no stores in his area had the next book in the series. He had found the dog three days prior, but was resigned to calling him "Boy" until Drake got the book. What had spooked Drake's mother, though, was how quickly the dog took to the name, like it was his all along.

"Well, now, how did you find me? Is Mom looking for me?" The dog whined, and looked over his shoulder confirming Drakes question; out of the fog came his mother, pale-faced and angry. What bothered Drake the most, her anger notwithstanding, was the look about her; it was almost as if her anger was radiating off of her in waves. The fog he noticed, didn't seem to want to touch her, even though it _had_ to.

"Drake Allen Masters! Where in the name of the Man Jesus have you been! I was up until two this morning waiting for you to come through that door!"

Wincing as he walked towards her, Drake stopped trying to blather through; he just told her. His mother's anger grew as his story progressed, that was, until he got to the part about Joeseph not seeing them. When he finished that part, hanging his head, the blow he expected never came; instead his mother just looked at him, sighed, and said, "I think that it is time that we had a bit of a talk about our family, Danny." The fact that she used her bBirns name for him made if true that she wasn't angry with him.

"...After we had our talk, Mom took me to see a few of her relatives. They taught me about my abilities, and trained me to control them; in short, they helped me find myself. I still got my headaches as a kid, though, and that is why I was sent on the moors: the one time that I wasn't, I spent the following three days repairing the kitchen wall and ceiling."

Aramai had paid intent attention as Drake's story was played out in his head; the story filled in a large many gaps, but still left him with a few small questions.

"So...I understand what your power is, but what are your abilities? The way that you explained it, power and ability mean two different things to you. I have already gathered telekinesis, what I call The Sight, moderate telepathy, and what you referred to, vaguely, as The Burst. My questions are this: What is the Burst, and do you have any other abilities?"

Drake sat thinking for a few minutes and then asked Aramai if there was a way to the roof. "Well, there is but...it's supposed to be restricted to Public Security forces only." Drake looked at Aramai knowing full well that the man had unrestricted, limitless access to the roof. Seeing that Aramai had noticed his flat knowing gaze, he allowed himself to answer one of his own questions that had re-rose when he was telling of himself.

"_The only reason the fog wouldn't touch her is simple; she was angry and using power she had long forgotten._"

"That is what I thought too, Drake." Snapped from his thought, Drake realized he had still been sending. He closed his mind so that his inner tirade wouldn't seem to be directed at Aramai. Drake liked the man, and didn't want to offend him. Soon after he quit kicking himself over the fact that he was still in story mode, they arrived at the roof; which gave a beautiful view of downtown Tokyo. Drake took time to savor the view, enjoying the way the city obviously diminished into farm, and was traceable by the lights alone. Gathering himself up, Drake stretched, everything from his neck down cracking; after which he gave a rather satisfied sigh.

He looked over at the smaller man beside him and asked, "Are you sure that you are ready for this? I'm really too tired to do it more than once." he was boosted by the smile he received at his comment. "Well, then. I suppose that I should have you move back some; I wouldn't want to hurt you inadvertently."

Aramai backed to the opposing ledge, and motioned Drake to carry on.

Starting with his arms down, and his hands facing palms out, Drake began to gather his mental energy. As he raised and crossed his arms in front of himself the energy started to become visible. Holding his arms crossed he rolled his shoulders only, he ended with his arms crossed, fists down, above his head. The energy was now a very visible shade of blueish green, with a solid orb at the cross made by his arms. Drake opened his eyes, which had turned from their normal green, to an ominous black. "...Burst..."

After his display, Drake and Aramai went downstairs, and to the lobby. Both men bid each other a tired farewell, and Drake took a cab to his hotel, where he fell asleep to an old Jackie Chan movie on TV.

When he woke up the next morning, Drake felt better than he had in days. He figured that he just got a nice cleansing when he used the Burst earlier in the morning. Deciding to take his high into an advantage, Drake decided that he would spent the day sight seeing, and maybe talking to some of the benign spiritual inhabitants of the city, get himself caught up on the news since his last visit to Japan.


	5. First Fight, Second Sight

His first task was his morning prayers, and a shower(he decided that even if others didn't think he stunk, he did). While allowing the water to come to temperature, he decided to take stock of himself. His frame was falling a bit, since he was about two weeks late getting to the gym, "_Gotta see if I can find a trainer around here that speaks English..._" he thought. Going further, he saw that it was time to break out the lotion; several of the scars on his body were dry enough to start cracking. "_Gotta take care of that, too._" All in all, he thought that he was still in pretty good shape, scars notwithstanding. "_At least my hammer is still in good standing_." he thought with a laugh.

After his morning ritual was taken care of, he began his walk. Taking time to greet those that would acknowledge him; most were still trying to deny their lack of existence. He talked when he had the chance, finding that most had some knowledge of Tsu and his work locally. He even got more info on how he got into his position as the Head of Law. Taking all of the info he could get(good and bad, even the trivial wasn't out of his grasp) he found his morning most informative. Looking up to see where he had ended his fact finding, he saw that he was at the gates of a Buddhist temple. Bowing and saying a small prayer, he entered the gates, to see what he could see.

For some reason, at the top of the stairs his first thought was of the Cheshire cat, "We're all a bit mad here...". He had no idea why, but thought that the fact may really mean something. Looking around, the temple seemed in order but something was still..."_Wrong. Not bad, not dark...just...wrong. Wrong as a mother fucker_." Drake pushed his power into as small a ball as he could, trying to dilute his presence among the essential purity of his surroundings. He took detailed stock of the area, hoping to find what caught his attention as fast as he could, but it didn't seem localized. That is what struck him so badly; in a place of priests, there was...something. Stopping the first person he could, he got the attention of who he attributed to be an acolyte; a priest in training, so to speak.

"Pardon me, but can you tell me where I would find your Headman? I find my matter more...urgent...than I would have first believed."

"I am very sorry, but he is ill right now, and isn't welcoming of visitors. I will ask if he would see you, if you would be willing to wait."

Drake said that he would wait a century if he had to.

"Damnú air_! If I'm right, the old man is fine, he is just having trouble with whatever it is that I'm sensing! I hope that he is fluent in English..._"

Almost an hour later the young man came back with a very old looking man at his elbow. The old man then rattled something off in Japanese, and the boy translated.

"Honorable Grandfather would like you to remove your shirt, if you would please."

Drake did as he was asked, and crouched on his knees, placing his hands upon them as was customary when dealing with such as the Headman.

Bright recognition hit the old man when he saw the tattoo's on Drake. Again he rattled something off in Japanese.

"Honorable Grandfather says that he knew you were coming, that Buddha showed you to him. He says that you can only be one man."

"I wonder, ask him why Buddha revealed one like myself to your Headman."

The boy again translated, and took what the old man said with a look of dire gravity.

"Honorable Grandfather says that he doesn't ask why he is shown what he is; he just remembers it as it comes. He says that you are Drake Allen Masters, the man known for helping both people and spirits find peace. He asks for your help." As the young man finished, the old priest crouched in the same way as Drake still was, and took one of Drake's hands in both of his own. With a heavy accent, the old man uttered only a few words. "Please, save these grounds." After which he passed out.

The young man was trying to get the old man awake again, when Drake kindly moved him. Gathering the Headman in his arms he asked the young man where he was roomed at. Taking the lead, he motioned for Drake to follow, which he did without hesitation. He soon found himself in the heart of the Temple, surrounded by the faces of a good many men and boys, all training in different ways. The thing that caught his eye and took a firm hold was a single young man, only a few years older than his little sister, ringing a great bell every time he pushed his hands forward...without ever touching the bell. Realizing that what he saw was a man with control of his chakra in a way that Drake could only hope to achieve made him wonder if he should stay and train.

His guide came back and took Drake by the arm with a word of apology and said, "If you can do what Honorable Grandfather wants, I will personally translate for you and Shou to spend a day together talking and training. Deal?" Feeling that he had just had his own thoughts seen, Drake told him that he would do so, gladly. Shortly after, the young man stopped in front of a door, and announced that they were at their destination. Opening the door, he showed Drake a room that was bare save for a bed, personal shrine and a small writing table. After laying the Headman on the bed, Drake put his shirt back on and began to take stock of the room. Somewhere within, Drake could "hear" that there was a hidden room in the stone. The pure, untainted chakra that filled the lower reaches of the Temple made Drake feel more powerful than he ever had; taking a breath he found that the power was palpable, because it tasted like his mothers cookies. "_Mental assignment. Giving physicality to a non-physical force_." Knowing that he was simply giving himself a way to grip what he couldn't normally, he let the power do what it was meant to: fill him up and boost him out. Taking another deep breath, Drake knew that his aura was solidifying, simply because the sheer amount of power he was taking in with every breath was spilling free.

Pushing his mind out he found the doorway hidden behind the Headman's shrine. With a quick prayer and apology, he slid it from the wall and went through the revealed passage. The way was dark, but Drake's mind was never hindered; he used it like a radar, following the sharp curves as he found them. He could feel what lay before him, and knew that a fight was coming; instead of waiting to see his opponent as he usually did, he gathered his power and armed himself. "Steel Fists." he muttered. Instantly, his hands were drowned in both his own power, and the raw chakra that filled the area making them both a spiritual weapon and a physical one. He favored this technique for fighting, simply because he hated weapons beyond those given to him by God. As he did before every fight, he began to mutter his modified version of Roland's Gunslinger mantra from the Dark Tower series. His was widely different, but it meant the same thing.

"I don't aim by sight, I aim by feel; my eyes deceive the truth. No attack comes from a weapon, I am the only weapon; others may fail. I will never end a life, darkness is my target; a killer is the darkness I fight. I am one man, I will do what I can with what I was given. I thank you God for the abilities you gave me and their use to protect those weaker than myself, which I will do until my life is ended, Amen."

At his finish, his target called to him in a voice that he hadn't heard for many years. "Will you kill me again, Drake?"

Drake stopped dead in his tracks, his power slipping. "Maura? But, you were-"

"Buried back home? Yes, Drake I was. Do you remember why?"

"No-"

"But you do."

"No. I-"

"You do!"

"No! I- it wasn't my fault!"

"You lashed out in anger-"

"I loved you!"

"You said it was my fault!"

"It was!"

"How can I be blamed for it?"

"You could've fought!"

"Two men and a gun? Do you really think that they wouldn't have killed me had I fought?"

"You-you-"

"You killed me."

With that single phrase, Drake's slipping power surged beyond his normal range, fueled by grief, sorrow, anger and more.

"NO! I saved you from them that night! You thanked me for it! How was I to know that he would still get a shot off!"

The demon that had stolen his lover's voice was forced into a fightable form as Drake continued to yell, forcing it by the very truth it tried to distort.

"You thanked me for saving you, and you kissed me! I was shot that night, too! The bullet that killed you nearly took my life as well! AND YOU APOLOGIZED FOR IT!"

With tears unknown coursing down his cheeks, he threw himself at the demon, crushing it again and again under the force of his Steel Fists. With every landed blow, more and more of the shaded dark that was seeping through the Temple faded. With the final blow, the Headman awoke, and the demon was banished.

"You said that it was you fault, and I took the blame from you for being late. It will always be...my fault." As his power and emotion faded, Drake slipped from consciousness.


	6. New Training

He awoke sometime later in the Headman's room, surrounded by a great many people. The first ones to catch his eye were, Chief Aramai, the Headman, the young translator(as Drake would forever think of him), and the one called Shou. The first to speak, however, was Shou.

"You have techniques like that, and you wish to train with me? I think that it is I who should train with you."

Drake was floored when he realized that he understood what Shou had said, then it hit him. His mind was open and he was reading the thoughts behind the words, not understanding the words themselves. With a grin he mentally replied, "But most of my techniques are for fighting; you were training your chakra itself, building its strength." Drake was delighted to see the look on Shou's face, indicating that he had "heard" everything Drake said. Everyone looked at Drake, wondering what had Shou so confused; the former shook his head and laughed, while the latter simply shrugged. With the confusion mounting, Drake took stock of himself.

He could feel no injuries, but that didn't mean that sitting up would be entirely possible; he planned to try anyway. With a grunt and a curse, Drake managed to get into a sitting position, the angered and worried thoughts trying to talk him back down notwithstanding. Grinning he told his crowd that he would like some time to himself, to meditate and calm his heart. Without questions everyone left him in the room, and silence pervaded his mind instantly. Drake thought that the quick silence had something to do with the immense amounts of chakra in the area.

"Why? Why of all things did that damnable thing have to take her voice? Why not try to convince me that Anne was dead? Or Mother? Shit, Russ, even! Bastard!" with that curse a small bottle of incense shattered, telling Drake that he needed to get control. As the scent of myrrh began to pervade the room, Drake took the half lotus position and began to meditate.

Elsewhere, a dark figure in front of a large mirror laughed, knowing that the great Drake Masters had a weakness. A small Imp floated at his shoulder, and began to whisper to his master, who began to laugh with the twisted irony of the mad.

Sending his mind out to cool, Drake's consciousness went first to his home back in Ireland, to see how faired his family. His _máthair_ was baking again, so Drake knew that bills and other things were on her mind again. Drake chuckled, because baking was the only form of cooking that he could never master. Sensing her _mac_, Drake's mother simply said, "You'll get the hang of this yet. You just need to learn to walk more softly." With a laugh, Drake "kissed" his mother and went to check on his baby sister. Now 10, she was beginning to blossom into a grand beauty. Between her eyes, and her masses of long, curly raven locks, she would be a vision. Knowing her _deartháir _was about she started to look for him. "No, sweetling, I'm not here physically, I'm still in Japan." he said, so she wouldn't wander the room looking for him.

"Oh, okay. Hey, Drake? Why hasn't Russ come back from the big ships?"

Cyruss had joined the Marines about a three years ago, and Anne still didn't grasp that he wouldn't be back for several months yet. As blessed as they were to have her, Drake was still saddened that she would be the one to get the odd gene from their father, slowing her mind somewhat. Most things were fine, but time, death, and money would always be beyond her.

"He still has about 8 months left to his service. He should be home in time for us to all celebrate your birthday. You'll just have to continue helping momma 'til then, okay?"

"You bet, Danny!"

Hearing his _bBirns _name from her always brought a smile to his face; it was her first word, since she couldn't say "Drake".

"Have you been trying to find a ghost?"

She always wanted to know what his task at hand was, since her power was nearly as great as his own.

"No, my target is a corruption. You remember what I told you on the phone before I got to Japan?"

"Yep, he was a good thing that went sour."

"That's right, and he might be under someone else's control. I just took care of a demon that was plaguing a temple here. That is why I cam to visit."

"Oh. You had a headache." That was the only way that she could describe the confusion she could feel in his heart.

"Yeah. Sure did, but you always make it better." Drake smiled as she giggled, both knowing that she was always his best medicine.

"Gimme a smile, Anne, I've gotta go back and finish my job."

Her face lit as she smiled, her big sapphire eyes shining. "Be safe, Drake." she said as he prepared to leave.

"You to, kiddo. _Grás tú._"

"_Grás tú_!" Her reply echoed in his mind as he returned to his body.

His return was short, though, because he wanted to go say hi to Russ. Glancing at his watch, he saw that a few hours had passed, and dinner was waiting for him. "_Eh, piffle to dinner. I want to know how that lunkhead is._"

Sending out again, Drake traced his brother to a ship in the South Pacific. Concealing himself as best as he could, Drake began to pick on Russ. Moving items out of his reach was hard, but the training it gave was as worth it as the looks on Russ' face. Finally, after he 'misplaced' his razor for the third time, he caught on to what was happening.

"Drake, _Imeacht gan teacht ort._"

"Aww, what's the matter, Russ? Not in the mood for joking?"

"Actually, no. I just landed swabbie for a month and a half. And all I did was pour a bucket of clean water on a PFC that called me and Irish pig bastard. How the hell was I supposed to know that he was my CO's nephew?"

"Oh, shit, Cyruss, I'm sorry. I really didn't know."

"Get on your horse. You know I'm not mad."

Drake smiled. Back when the were both little more than kids, Drake had mis-said the phrase "Get off your high horse" and it ended up as "Get on your horse". It became a joke between them when they came older and understood the joke. It was more or less an apology phrase.

"Aye, I know you're not mad, but I still feel bad." Drake shifted his mental stance and blurted, "The kid's askin'' about you. You not been writing again?"

Russ flinched at the accusation. But instead of replying, he simply continued shaving. Drake knew that he hadn't been.

"Come on, damn it. You and I have this same discussion every time we talk. That kid loves you to death, same as I do. Mom would prob'ly like to hear from you too, ya' know."

Russ sighed. "Yeah, aye, Drake, you're right again. Same as always. It's just...it pisses me off knowing that all out mail is screened for information leaks, and none of _my_ conversations are private. Last time half the ship was put on full alert against me because me and Mom had been conversing in Gaelic and they thought I was talking to a spy or something. I can't wait for this to be over so I can sit behind a goddamn mule with that old blade plow and grow a year of crops myself."

Drake grinned knowing what was coming next.

"Shit, I came here to get away from all that labor, and I want to go back." He shook his head with a laugh. "Mumma was right. I ain't nothin' but a farmer, true to the core."

He and Drake shared a good laugh, which was revitalized twice when Cyruss snorted. After it all tapered off, Cyruss turned to the area Drake was at, solemn.

"I can't see ya' but I can feel ya'. You'll have to teach me to at least see your floaty-ass. I love you, ya shit, no matter how often I _don't_ say it. Be safe, 'cause I know what you do isn't. I've seen the scars under your shirts and jeans, since you do spend your first hour awake in your boxers. When I get home, you, me, Mom and Anne are gonna go out on that boat of yours for an afternoon, and you're gonna hang about the homestead for a few months, deal?"

Drake loved the idea. "Deal."

"All right. Good. Now, before my CO or someone walks in, get goin'', you got work to do you asshole."

"Yeah, I'll see you soon, ya' jerk off."

Pulling back to his body, Drake let himself come up from his state slowly, so he didn't pass out from lack of oxygen. When he was fully up, he opened his eyes to a bright sun. Realizing that he had gone from sunset to sun up talking, he knew that if anyone were waiting for him, the would be plenty upset. With a groan, a grunt and a symphony of cracks from his long inactive joints, he went to go back to the top of the grounds and see who-or what- was about. As he was leaving the room, he saw that the dinner left the night before had been replaced with a pot of Green Tea. He stopped long enough to enjoy a cup, and then resumed his trek to the grounds of the Temple.

On his way up, he ran into Shou again. He stopped Drake, and inquired if Drake would like to join him for a training session.

"I would love to, but I should go see if anyone is waiting for me."

"Actually, no one has stopped, but there are a couple of notes for you. I really would like you to come train with me, though, if you don't mind."

Drake knew that the boy wouldn't lie to him, so he accepted his offer. When the two of them arrived at the bell, Drake asked him how he should go about things.

"Well, we all know much of your power is telekinetic, we felt that the day you stopped the demon."

"Wait. "The day"? I just did that yesterday...didn't I"

"You mean, you didn't know? You slept for two days after you passed out."

Drake wasn't sure he liked that idea, but he decided he would worry about it later. "So, I assume that I should block all of my telekinesis off, right?"

"Yes, after that, we'll go from there."

For the next eight hours, Drake learned to control his chakra without boosting it with his telekinesis. He found out quickly, though, to do so was quite tiring. Drake forced himself to keep up with Shou, though, because he could feel a deep build in the core of his power; almost like something was emerging. Pushing harder, Drake began to notice that Shou hadn't been extending his arms to push the bell; Drake had been doing it for some time. Letting his power fall, he took a moment to sit.

"So...how long was I pushing the bell without you?"

Shou laughed, realizing that his deception had been caught. "In truth? I never touched the bell after the first ring. You did it on your own almost the whole day."

"You mean I was trying to keep up with you, and I was only besting myself! That's unfair...and I love it. You got me training in a way that I should do more often."

"So you did discover something?"

"Not yet, but I think I might be close. I have you to thank for that."

Shou nodded and then looked thoughtfully at the bell. "I had been training for 10 years to touch the bell like you did in just a few minutes. You have a very thorough grasp of yourself, Drake. You are probably stronger than many of us here that have been doing nothing but training our whole lives."

Drake blushed and said, "That's not entirely true, Shou. I had no idea that I was using my chakra when I fought. I thought that it was pure telekinesis. And I, too have trained my whole life; you just started sooner than I did. Plus you showed me a training form that I would never have learned otherwise."

Shou began to blush, realizing that he had done more for the large man than he had thought he did. Standing he motioned for Drake to start with the bell again. "I am allowed one 30 minute break a day, which I split into two 15 minute breaks. I've given you the same. Let us recommence."

Standing, Drake began as he was instructed. Taking a deep breath, he started against the bell again. Hours passed as the two trained, ringing the bell in tandem, until Shou changed positions to stand on the opposite side of the bell. He did so without a word and began to push the be against Drake; forcing him to take shorter time between rings and pushing him harder. With a grunt of effort, Drake decided to train the boy as well. He began to push harder at every stroke, knowing that it would be a test of wills, and not just a simple training. He heard Shou laugh, and they began to "fight".

Harder and faster they began to strike, the bell's ring a constant sound. A crowd began to form watching the two as the exercise began to take a less playful turn, each striking the bell harder and faster ever time. Suddenly, they both went to strike at the same time and instead of collapsing, the bell funneled their strikes at each other. At the impact, both were knocked to opposite walls, panting. Drake felt a subtle release, and the power that had been building awoke. Shou, too, released something, but Drake couldn't identify it. Maxed out, but happy, both of them fell asleep the bell swaying between them.

The Headman had watched the whole thing, and was glad to see the results. Drake had such a potent grip on his chakra that he would have a new ability come morning; Shou too would share the technique, because of the severe training he had both given and received. "_To give training is to help you mind,_"reflected the Headman, "_and to receive training from your student is to train your heart. You both will have an interesting morning._"

Drake awoke, still beside the bell early the next morning. His hands felt odd, like they were disconnected from him. With a mental shrug, he stood up to go get something to relieve his cotton mouth. Looking over, he saw that Shou, too, was still asleep. He was in awe of the boy, softhearted as a big teddy bear, but tough as damn nails. He would like to have someone like Shou around for a lot of his tasks, but knew that the boy would live and die at the temple; probably training others like himself. He went to poke Shou, but he felt his hands come into contact with the boy well before they should have. Drake stood for a moment, placing the sensation, when he realized that he could feel his chakra flowing powerfully from his true hands, to the point where he could feel Shou.

Closing his eyes, he opened them with the intention of auric vision; to see the energy. When he did, he could plainly see to large-ish hands that were the same color as his chakra. He decided to see what was what, and gave Shou a gentle poke. He realized that he could feel pressure, but he got no actual sensation from the silk outfit Shou wore. "_This could become a "handy" technique...Have to give it a name so I can form it faster. First..._" He wanted to know what the strengths were of the technique, so he tried to lift Shou. The pressure indicated that Shou weighed, to him, little more than a baby chicken. He knew instantly that if he were to pour more chakra into the tech, he could lift many a heavy item. He gave Shou a gentle shake, and stood him on his feet.

"Morning, Sunshine."

"Graa...what the...I feel odd."

Drake could see massive energy pulsing around Shou, making him appear several feet taller than his 5' 2" frame. In all he seemed to be about 12 feet tall. Before Drake could say anything, Shou noticed on his own. Without a word, Shou began to concentrate, and the aura dicipated until it was back at normal ranges.

"Drake, could you see my chakra?" Drake nodded. "That must've been what I felt...I tapped into the heart of my chakra. Such power..."

Drake grinned, and said, "You're not the only one here guy."

Shou smiled, yes I felt your hands change as I fell asleep. What happened?"

Drake explained as best as he could, and even showed Shou, who gave the tech a simple, but appropriate, name. "Yes, Helping Hands would fit it well, Drake. Don't you agree?" The Irishman smiled his approval. "Good. Now then, I can hear both our stomachs. How about some breakfast?"


End file.
